


Sincerely, Victor Frankenstein

by ghostieboyo



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, henry elizabeth and ernest are all trans haha whoops !, i just wanted to be happy, set while hes at ingolstadt, this aint my best but no fear we postin hell yea, this is sickeningly sweet dont @ me, told in journal entries by victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostieboyo/pseuds/ghostieboyo
Summary: Victor finally visits Geneva.





	Sincerely, Victor Frankenstein

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in 2 days with a fever im. fucking superb. im an astounding specimen and a wonder to modern science

3 JAN 2018

There’s something I need to say. However, right now I’m in the middle of a very important project, and am worried that if I wait until I can take a break I’ll have forgotten it by then, though I can’t imagine, as this has plagued my mind for weeks now.

To future Victor: I’d hope this is enough of a reminder. Let it out somehow.

Gathering my Thoughts,

Victor

 

4 JAN 2018

I’ve returned.

Throughout the, albeit few, years of my life I’d been under the impression my heart belongs only to women, could only be held by women, could only be given to women.

Clerval was an exception, and I chose to believe that was a sign of a close and loving friendship.

I’d always found Henry attractive. He’s small, but with a sizeable personality, and strong and well defined features. His nose has a slight bump on the bridge, his eyes seem to change colors with the seasons, his freckles ebb and flow across his cheeks. Over the years his hair’s grown impressively long, and I’m finding it hard to resist running my fingers through it. He wouldn’t mind, I think.

I think.

It’s impossible for me to list everything about him; it’s too much.

My dear laptop notes app, I don’t believe I deserve this man.

Clerval (or Henry, as he wants me to call him, but when I don’t he sticks his tongue out and smiles—he has dimples—) asked me today to see him next Saturday, claiming that I “need to get out of that stuffy university before [I] disintegrate!!!!!!” I’m sure he has plenty to share about his life and his own studies, and I’d love to hear his stories, but considering these new revelations I don’t know how im going to handle seeing him again.

I haven’t seen many people in a few months, actually. Elizabeth texted me today asking when I’d visit and why I was ignoring her, and I, who thought I hadn’t talked with her in a week or so, realized the last time I’d responded to her was dated back in early November.

Texts I ignored from Elizabeth:

 

15 NOV 2017

11:15: Victor, how are you! Justine came over today to help babysit,,, but mostly because I’ve been worried. Not really about William, he’s fine (and doing SO WELL in school! What a kid!), but Ernest’s been a little off ever since he came out. Maybe we should be getting him a therapist?

11:16: But I also think if he just got to talk to you he’d feel a little better. He’s all nerves, and he thinks we’re all going to hate him, even though we’ve had a history of being accepting! When Henry told us he was trans we supported him! Same with me, you all love me HOPEFULLY! You remain sexually ambiguous and we still love you! Please at least message him.

11:18: Sorry. I know it’s normal to doubt the support of others and this is a crisis he has to go through. I know firsthand. I just want to magically make it all better.

11:25: Babysitting was unproductive anyway;;;; William entertained himself and Ernest insisted on being alone so Justine and I pulled a cliche bad babysitter move and made out on the couch in the other room. alas

11:37: Anyway love you vic!!!! I didn’t mean anything by the sexually ambiguous comment don’t take that joke too seriously

 

26 NOV 2017

13:56: Hope you’re doing okay and not falling into some pit of despair or a new fixation or something. Let me know if you need anything

13:57: Ernests been feeling better. He avoided going to school for a while but I went and got all his schoolwork that he missed and we talked for a while, explored the house a bit. Still worrying, but that’s what I do.

13:58: Still worried about you too.

 

4 DEC 2017

10:28: Out of curiosity, anything you want so badly that you’re just burning up about it but for some reason haven’t gotten for yourself? Not that I’m planning your presents early or anything!!! Haha…….

 

10 DEC 2017

12:07: Victor?

12:19: Are you coming home for Christmas?

 

23 DEC 2017

18:45: Guess not. I’ll save your present for you. Merry Christmas Eve Eve

 

24 DEC 2017

18:23: Merry Christmas Eve

18:26: Ernest would really love to see you.

 

25 DEC 2017

5:16: Merry Christmas, Victor.

5:18: I’m assuming you’re not coming during your birthday either???

 

1 JAN 2018

00:01: Happy New Year AND more importantly Happy Birthday! :-)

 

4 JAN 2018

7:16: I miss you, we all miss you. You need to talk to Ernest. You need to talk to me. I’ve been acting chill about it but I’m so worried about you. And really angry. Please respond, Victor. I hate to see you upset but I hate it more to not see you at all.

7:18: What are you doing? Why aren’t you visiting? Whatever it is, I’ll listen.

7:21: Henry says he hasn’t even heard from you, so good to know I’m not alone here.

9:19: Oh NOW you respond to him.

 

The last few I did reply to, though my responses were ambiguous. I don’t know what I’m doing.

Perplexed and Guilty,

Victor

 

7 JAN 2018

I know Clerval wants to visit Ingolstadt—that’s part of why he offered to spend the day with me next week. However, I think I need to go back to Geneva more than he needs to visit me. I hope he can forgive me for changing his schedule.

Scheming,

Victor

 

8 JAN 2018

As for the “sexually ambiguous” comment—is it obvious? Do others know? Does Henry know? I’d been under the impression I was confusing only myself with my sexuality.

It’s not any of their business to speculate on that, anyway. I thought Elizabeth of all people would understand that.

Questioning Too Much,

Victor

 

10 JAN 2018

I’ve told Henry not to come to Ingolstadt and am currently getting a string of texts questioning why. I thought I’d surprise everyone with my visit, hoping that my presence causes joy rather than hatred.

I’m on the train now, actually. It’s been two hours or so, and at one point I attempted to revise my notes for my Undisclosed Project (I’m attempting to do a good job of keeping my more sciency endeavors to my thousands of notebooks and computer programs rather than clog up the one space that is free of them) but got so tired I accidentally typed “amino acid” as “army antacid.” Giving up, I started an entry in here, and blinked once and realized thirty minutes had passed and I fell asleep on the ‘y’ key.

Perhaps this is a consequence of neglecting sleep for three days.

Nevertheless, I’m on my way home.

Drowsy,

Victor

 

Addendum. It appears a very important notebook of mine was stolen as I slept. A notebook containing sensitive information that serves as the foundation for my latest project, that I cannot work without, that could change the world as we know it, has been stolen. I cannot find it anywhere and I don’t know what to do.

Too Worried to Come up with a Clever Sign Off,

Victor

 

11 JAN 2018

It is 2:00 and I’m now sitting in my room alone. My notebook was never recovered. Besides that, in retrospect, catching a late train just to save money and not telling anybody was the worst idea; I rang the bell six times, then called Elizabeth, only to have her slap me when she finally opened the door. I suppose I deserved that.

She then proceeded to mother-hen me, comment on how skinny I’ve gotten, try to shove food down my throat and, seeing my eyes struggle to stay awake, practically kick me upstairs to bed, tellig me she’ll yell at me later. I’m just glad dad is such a heavy sleeper,I’d take Elizabeth’s intense care over his worry any day. I asked about Henry, and Elizabeth said she’d tell me tomorrow. I didn’t know there wa s anthign to tell em ab

 

It’s around 13:00; I fell asleep writing and awakened at noon. Ernest came to visit and woke me up, bringing me lunch-breakfast from Elizabeth—she’s still angry, and she cooks when she’s angry, so I’m left now with a plate of ten cold pancakes, but my stomach is so shriveled I can barely nibble on them.

He sat on the bed and we talked for a while. He’s really grown a lot, I’ve noticed. He’s sixteen now, but stays in my memory as an anxious fourteen year old only just coming to terms with the wretchedness of the world, but when I look at him now I see a hardened skin, shy smile, and overall a young boy battling insecurity. I’m not going to pretend to know anything about being transgender, but he seems sure of himself and just a little bit happier, and for that I’m proud of him.

I know Elizabeth thinks I should talk to him more, perhaps to allow him to realize he has support from the men of the family as well. But I’m just not a great older brother, and I don’t know if he’s willing to forgive me for that.

At least I can afford to help him monetarily.

Ernest told me some shocking and somewhat ironic news. Henry left this morning to Ingolstadt, despite me telling him not to, thinking he’d visit early and surprise me, and got on the very same train I got off in Geneva. We were at the same exact stop, and missed each other.

Great minds think alike, but fools rarely differ.

I’ve messaged him explaining the situation and he’s resolved to catch the next train back. What I hate is that now my brain is turning into liquid at the thought of seeing him, and some part of me hopes his ride goes around and around and around in circles forever, so I don’t have to deal with the emotional turbulence.

Don’t get me wrong, dearest laptop notes application, I am excited to see his face. He says he has something for me.

Anxiously Waiting,

Victor

 

12 JAN 2018

In short: I’m gay.

Not necessarily gay as in exclusively attracted to men, but as in Henry Clerval is… indescribably amazing. So I’m some part gay, I think.

I need to explain. First, I usually write formally even in private entries as it helps clear my head, but right now allow me to just

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hfhdhssjfjkdsksfjjdkfndjsgnfksFHDJJDSJDJFNCIRNCLSKFNN

I can change my major and become a poet exclusively writing about him, and the way his hair shines, and how it comes out in waves whenever he leaves it down. I can write novels about his dimples and sonnets about his eyes and future classics about how honest and softly his smile touches any lucky passerby’s very soul.

I went to meet him at the platform, and it turned out to be… eventful. My heart leapt seeing him walk off, and when he saw me staring he ran towards me and enveloped me in a hug to challenge dramatic films. He let me go, breathless, and started fumbling around in his bag as I took the time to realize he’d been working out more often and his arms stretched the fabric of his turtleneck. He revealed for me something I’d been missing dearly: the notebook I lost traveling here. Apparently, it had slid under a seat and gotten trapped in a crevice, entirely hidden until the smallest flash of the scarlet cover caught Henry’s eye. It appears I jumped to the conclusion of it being stolen and the notebook had just slipped out of my bag. In my gratefulness, I caught him in another hug, and neither of us let go but instead just talked while clinging to each other. At one point I must have started crying, because Clerval broke away and tried to wipe my tears. I said that I’d just missed him. “I missed you too,” he replied, and kissed me on the cheek. He insisted on driving home, asserting that I looked half dead and my driving was atrocious even when I am entirely healthy. He’s staying in a guest room in the house for as long as my visit extends.

Lovesick and Relieved,

Victor

 

13 JAN 2018

Ernest has become some nightmarish type of mini-Elizabeth. He stormed in at 8:00 this morning and practically kicked me out of bed to the bathroom, yelling at me to shower and get ready, and “do something about that hair!” When I returned and my hair dried, he groaned and took it upon himself to brush it, but he is a lovely fool. Genetics are terrible in that they gave me curly (from dad) blond (from mom) hair, and Ernest wavy (from mom) brown (from dad) hair, so he has no idea how curly hair works, and as soon as he was through brushing it I looked like I had a lion’s mane.

I laughed and washed it again so it could be brushed wet.

Apparently he did this because I “legally can’t see Henry looking like a monster,” and wouldn’t budge when I said I saw him yesterday exactly as is. I’m fairly certain from where his room is Henry heard all the commotion anyway.

Lovingly,

Victor

 

(STILL) 13 JAN 2018

I let Ernest borrow some of my old clothes (despite the fact that he did recently buy a whole new updated wardrobe, he said that today felt “black and dreary” so he “needed to find something emo to wear”) and kicked him out so I could get dressed. Not three seconds after stepping out the door Henry walks up to me, sticks his tongue out when I greet him as Clerval, and leads me downstairs where I have a near heart attack. Everyone in the house, Justine Moritz, and some older friends I hadn’t seen in a long time greeted me, and I couldn’t move out of shock and confusion for about five minutes. Elizabeth laughed and patted me on the back—”Did you really think we wouldn’t do anything for your birthday? I know it’s late.” Henry helped her organize it last-minute, apparently.

There are only about fifteen people here, and I’m touched because they both knew I’d get stressed if there were over twenty, though our house could hold far more. Elizabeth told me she’d give me her presents later, and Henry did the same, but he had to whisper it in my ear, and leave me shivering about it still.

I slipped out for a moment to get a break from having to talk (my family probably understands) and also to write this entry while it is still fresh in my mind. Right now I’m sitting on the floor with tears in my eyes, and I’m glad that the past few days have only contained tears of joy. When mom died, I was unsure any of us would get to feel joy again.

It is my, and probably also her, greatest pleasure to say I was wrong.

Happily,

Victor

 

14 JAN 2018

Dear Henry,

Wh

 

Dear Henry,

Please tell me what you’re trying to d

 

Dear Henry,

I love you. Don’t do t

 

Dear Computer,

The party, if it can be called that, went well. After most people cleared out or went back to their rooms, and after dad stopped trying to ask me questions about biochemistry that only left him more confused when I answered, Elizabeth, Henry, and I sprawled out on the couch. Elizabeth sat up with a start, and fumbled around for a good minute, tripped upstairs, and returned with two small boxes wrapped simply with brown paper and tied with flamboyant blue ribbon.

I didn’t particularly want presents, but my family seem to have gotten me some anyway.

 

From William: A page ripped from a coloring book of a badly colored mermaid, with red eyes

From Ernest: A stuffed bear with a pressure point on its paw so that if you press it it plays a voice recording of him saying “fuck you!” very cheerfully (it really is sweet, but hard for me to explain why)

From dad: Chocolate coated strawberries and a pat on the back

From Elizabeth: The first day we found Elizabeth also happened to be midwinter, and when I commented it was my birthday she hastily left and made me a sloppily crafted friendship bracelet. Since then, she’s been gifting me those bracelets every year on my birthday. This year’s was in shades of pinks and purples. As for the Christmas present she was waiting to give me, it was a new jacket that looks almost exactly like mine—”you need to stop wearing that old ratty jacket because it makes you look like a mad scientist and you scare children with it.”

 

The following people aren’t family, but they might as well be.

From Justine: The complete collection of Edgar Allan Poe and a candy we both found disgusting when we were twelve but thoroughly enjoy now

From Henry: His old journal from earlier in the year, full of sketches, entries, diagrams, and scribbles about literature. Also a pair of socks with skulls on them, and a kiss

Victor

 

15 JAN 2018

I should probably explain.

Elizabeth had left to the kitchen, kissing both of us goodbye even though she was only going to the other room, and I started sifting through the pages of Henry’s journal. He seemed a little nervous, but I took it as simple embarrassment; I’d always wanted to look through his sketchbooks, but it was the one thing he was shy about. I asked him if he was sure about giving this to me, and he nodded almost too eagerly.

I was honored, at first, because every other page or so there were drawings of me. Me. Me with untameable hair and eye bags occupying three quarters of my face and the overall image of despair. And, I don’t know how to say it, he just made me look beautiful. Not that they were inaccurate, they were definitely recognizable, but there was something otherworldly about them. It’s as if he touched his pencil to the page and made them sparkle with life. Not only the ones of me, but also all his drawings, seemed to be an extension of his spirit, glowing and smiling and just overall entrancing. I could have stared at that book for days.

He rolled his eyes and told me to read some of the writing, so I turned back to the start and read.

The writing was simple enough, usually just notes and spontaneous thoughts, and often rambles about books. His large and loopy handwriting made it more appealing. After awhile it boiled down to journal entries like those I write here, but more informal, because people like Henry can afford to be real. Around page twenty I found

Actually, I have the book here with me. I’ll transcribe it.

 

21st of May, 2017

I’ve always hated spring, just because of the allergies, but I’m kind of finding myself turning around on it. Mostly because around this time of year I, your local mess, get to see Victor again :)

But yes, I saw Victor today, and he made me realize another thing that’s Wonderful about spring! Overcast days are turning into blue skies and I’m just realizing how mesmerizing he looks in the sun. I know he loves winter and overall chooses to stay indoors, and he’s beautiful in his natural setting too, but something about spring and the budding flowers and everything… you know?

We were walking together and a petal fell in his hair and

I don't know. I just wanted to kiss him senseless, that’s all.

 

I looked up after reading and saw him wringing his hands. Everything’s hard to remember, it all happened in a blur, but I asked if we was joking and he said of course he wasn’t, to which I just replied with “Oh.” Then he sort of grabbed my face and kissed me, or I kissed him, or I can’t recall because we were both leaning in.

Elizabeth made a startled noise as she came back in, and Henry jumped back, apologized, and ran upstairs.

I haven’t talked to him since then.

Victor

 

16 JAN 2018

I’ve now read all the pages in Henry’s journal with writing. The majority of them are simple journal entries describing the events and happenings of his life in the past year, but sometimes there are small mentionings of me (me) and more drawings. How he writes changes with his mood, and I noticed a sharp downturn around November when I started to get lost in myself again.

The last page is addressed to me.

 

Dear Victor,

I’ve decided to give this book to you for a couple of reasons, not just because I’m a gay fool, please ignore that if you want to. I’m worried about you, we all are. Even when you snap out of it and talk to us I know you won’t all be there, because you never are, and I hate to see you broken up. Even though I study them I’ve never really had a way with words, so I’m just going to say this. There is love and beauty in this world, and I want this book to serve as a reminder of it. You deserve to feel happy and loved and cared for, and I do love you, Victor Frankenstein, in more ways than one. As your friend I want to remind you that, even though I can’t fix everything, I can still be here for you.

As for that first thing I told you to ignore: you really don’t have to think anything about it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Please try to take care of yourself.

Love,

Henry Clerval

 

I still have to think a little more.

Warmly,

Victor

 

18 JAN 2018

I got so caught up in everything that I forgot to provide an update! Little has happened in the way of social relationships, other than a private conversation with Elizabeth where she pretended never to have seen the kiss and I apologized for causing her months of worry (“You always cause me worry, Vic, that’s nothing new”). Ernest’s school is back in session and the house is missing one snobby sixteen year old for a few hours a day.

I’ve been trying to eat more after neglecting myself for so long, and yesterday I almost ate more in that one day than I had in the entire week before. Today I managed breakfast, with tea, and I feel a little more alive than usual.

Henry’s back at his family’s home across town, I should

I should actually talk to him now.

Mentally Preparing,

Victor

 

20 JAN 2018

Early morning is technically the 20th.

I was going to prepare myself, plan what I was going to say, and drive over midday yesterday, but soon after I wrote that last entry something in me made me impulsively grab the keys to Elizabeth’s car and drive to Henry’s as fast as I could.

His dad greeted me at the door (I would have much preferred literally anyone else) with a grunt, asked me what I wanted, and I told him I’d like to see Henry. He was at the store when I got there, so I had to wait with this disgusting man in the living room until Henry came in, already wary after seeing Elizabeth’s car. I offered to help put up the groceries, but he waved me off, tucked them away in a flash, and practically dragged me to his room.

“What are you doing?” He asked. I started to pat the pockets of my coat and pulled out his journal, hoping just holding it would be enough.

I remember saying something absurdly sappy along the lines of this: “I’ve been taking care of myself for the first time in months over the past couple of days, and it’s mostly because those I love have refused to stop worrying about me, despite how I mistreated them. I’m sorry for neglecting you, and neglecting myself, and not talking to you when I first realized it, but,” I tapped the book to his chest, “I love you, Henry Clerval. It makes my head spin just to think about you, and at this point my journal entries are starting to sound like they’re written by a lovesick thirteen year old. You’re amazing, and thank you for worrying about me and overall being a wonderful friend but I just need to tell you that I’m ridiculously gay for you too.”

Or something like that, because whatever it was made him laugh nervously and say, “See, you’re the one who has a way with words.” And he really did kiss me senseless.

I’m, ah, writing this back at home with Henry next to me in the bed. I’m fairly certain he’s asleep, and I don’t know if I’ll ever let him read these, but I wish he knew that the way his face glows with the light from the computer screen is the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing firsthand.

After the initial shock we sat in his room talking, and I mentioned I wasn’t looking forward to going back to Ingolstadt alone in a few days.

“You won’t have to,” he said, and explained he made all the preparations to transfer this semester, and he intended to tell me he’d be staying when he came to see me, but I ruined all his planning.

So, I’ll soon be returning to school with someone extraordinarily special, and I’ll have to decide whether it’s worth it to continue with my little project or not, and no matter what, I’ll certainly be dropping Professor Krempe’s class. I’ve no clue how this is going to work out, but I’m determined to keep Clerval by my side, and perhaps sleep a little more restfully.

Elizabeth is going to have a field day when I tell her all about this.

Love,

Victor

 

21 JAN 2018

Ernest has been restless now that he’s back at school so today I took him out to what he named a ‘Compromise Day’: He wanted to get food and see a film, and I wanted to go to a museum, so we did both and bickered the whole time. It was fun. I think he’s starting to like me more.

Somewhat of a Brother,

Victor

 

22 JAN 2018

Henry’s first class is tomorrow and mine is Wednesday, so we’re heading off in a few hours, which means there’s plenty of time for Elizabeth to make retching noises every time she sees us close together. It’s almost as if she’s forgetting how disgusting her and Justine tend to be.

PDA Extraordinaire,

Victor

 

(STILL) 22 JAN 2018

We’re on the train now and I’m disgustingly happy—Henry referred to me as His Boyfriend and he is PEERING AT THE SCREEN AND MAKING FUN OF ME FOR BEING SO CHEESY. I have the rudest boyfriend in the world and I love him with all my heart. It just felt nice to hear it out loud.

Henry’s insisting on meeting Professor Waldman because of the extent to which I enthuse about him and his class. Here’s hoping that he becomes immediately deterred once he hears five minutes of us discussing any science.

I miss Ernest, and Elizabeth, and William and dad and Justine, but I know I’ll have to see them again soon. Still, life moves on away from Geneva. I’ll have to see where it takes me.

The Most Fortunate Man in the World,

Victor

**Author's Note:**

> :'-) im just livin my best life home dawg


End file.
